Beneath the Mistletoe
by queenconniebee
Summary: Co-written with Bethy1416. Christmas is coming around but for Connie, it brings little joy. It should be so different, she has all of those she loves around her for the first time, yet the circumstances make this fact redundant. As her frustrations grow to reach a crucial point, will she then be able to put her doubts and fears aside and focus on her daughter's full recovery?
1. Chapter 1

"Drink?" Connie offers, nodding at the plastic cup on the table as she wipes a bit of pasta sauce from Grace's chin. Gracie nods and reaches towards the cup as Connie hands it to her. "We're going to finish lunch," she taps on the table beside her bowl, "and then, your friend Hugo is coming over!"

Grace watches her mother as she talks, following her hand gestures but showing little sign of understanding. "You know your friend, Hugo? He came into the hospital a few weeks ago."

"Skate?"

Connie grins, "Yes! Skate! You went skating together, didn't you?"

"Hugo."

"That's right. Finish eating, then we can see Hugo. Hugo will come here, to our home."

"See Hugo at home?"

"You will see Hugo at our home, yes."

"Here?"

Connie nods and continues eating her pasta as Grace picks up her fork again. They have reached a stage in Grace's recovery where she's able to perform tasks for herself, but language remains a very gradual process. There had been improvement, and some days are better than others, Grace recalling more of her vocabulary day by day, her fingers becoming more nimble and actions more controlled. She's only been home about three weeks and routine was the best form of normality Connie could offer her daughter.

Not even two hours later and there was a knock at the door.

"Hugo," Connie told Grace, earning a smile, as she got up to welcome their guests.

"Hiya," Jim says as Connie opens the door. "Sorry we're a bit early, Hugo wouldn't sit still due to excitement."

"That's perfectly alright, Grace has been looking forward to seeing you, Hugo," she says, smiling down at the boy who's clutching his father's hand. She stands aside as they step quietly into the hallway, removing their scarves and coats.

"We bought Grace a Christmas present," Hugo says. "Can I give it to her?"

"Of course! Go on through."

She watches as he runs into the living room and shows Grace the red and gold wrapped present. He carefully places it on her lap and tugs at one of the ends, causing Connie to press her hand to her chest at the boy's good heartedness. Grace knowingly pulls at a corner of the paper and begins unwrapping it.

"How is she doing?" Jim asks behind her. She turns slightly so as not to be rude to him, but so she's still able to keep an eye on Grace.

"She's… building her strength up. Physically, she's nearly there. She can do things for herself, eat, put on her coat… Mentally, she's struggling. She'll get there. I know she will. Just takes time, a lot of effort and patience."

"That's positive. Hugo's been desperate to come over again after last time. He was particularly impressed with the lasagne you made."

She laughs, "I'm sorry that I suggested we eat out tonight!"

"Don't be. It'll be nice. Will Jacob be there?"

"Hopefully. He's working at the moment, but his shift finishes at five."

"Grand timing!"

"What about Keira?"

"She's got a friend over at the moment, they were discussing babies when I left. I think they agreed on takeaway for dinner."

"Ah, yes. Pregnancy. How's that going?"

"Well. So far, so good. Hugo's really into it, which is fantastic."

"Yes, I'm so glad it's worked out. Oh, excuse me one moment-" she walks into the living room and kneels down beside Grace who's sat on the sofa holding her unwrapped gifts. "Wow! Gracie, they're so pink! Hat, scarf, gloves. And a colouring book. What do you say?" Grace watches her mother as she shows her each item in turn and names them. "Th…" Connie encourages.

"Thank you," she stutters.

"I thought that maybe you could wear them to stay warm in your wheelchair, and then when you can walk well again, you can wear them when we go to the park, or when we go skating!" Hugo explains excitedly.

"Skate," Grace says, smiling at them both.

"Yes, thank you very much, Hugo," Connie reiterates. "And Grace will like the colouring too, we haven't got any grown up pattern books for her. And… we've got you a little present too, I'll just go and get it."

When she returns she's surprised to see Grace adjusting the new blossom-pink hat on her head and Hugo carefully looping the scarf around her neck.

"You will be nice and warm with those, Grace," she says.

Grace turns to her and nods, "Warm in cold."

"That's right Grace!" Hugo praises. "They will keep you really warm when it's cold."

"Right, Hugo, here's your present. Merry Christmas!" Connie smiles softly, handing over the gift. She returns to her earlier spot beside Grace on the sofa and watches as he unwraps his present.

"Woah! Dad, look!" he yelps, turning to his father sat on the chair behind him to show him the small remote control car.

"Wow, look at that! What do you say?"

"Thank you!" He leaps up from the floor and tumbles towards Connie, flinging his arms around her and squeezing her. She jumps, taken aback, but starts chuckling and rubs his back. He then goes to Grace, moving more cautiously than he had done with her mother, and wraps his arms around her and whispers a thank you in her ear.

For a while, they all sit around and watch Hugo play with his new toy, the television on quietly in the background. There's a point where Hugo comes over and patiently explains to Grace how to work the car. She's perfectly able to figure out the logistics but Connie could sense the growing irritation when she kept crashing into the coffee table, despite her greatest efforts.

"Shall we go for a walk to the park?" Connie suggests, hoping to distract both the children.

Hugo pauses, "Will Grace come?"

"Definitely. Park?" She asks as she turns to her daughter. Grace smiles and picks up her gloves from the arm of the sofa. "You put them on?" she prompts.

"Do you need any help with anything?" Jim offers as Connie goes to the hallway to retrieve the wheelchair.

"Um… Please. There should be a blanket on the table in the kitchen, if you could grab it for me?"

"Sure thing," he responds.

Connie sets about opening up the wheelchair and locking it into place when a sudden shout comes from Grace in the living room.

"No! No!"

She runs in to see Grace still in the same position and Hugo kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"Hugo? What happened?" Connie asks, her tone wary.

"Hugo, what did you do?" Jim questions, rushing in from the kitchen, blanket draped over his arm.

"I was just trying to help!"

"What did you _do_?" His father persists.

"I was helping her put her gloves on, I thought she needed help."

"Oh, that's very kind of you," Connie replies, softening her voice. "Grace can be a bit stubborn. Why don't you get your coat on and I'll finish getting her ready?"

He nods with a pout. All he knows is that his friend is poorly and she's 'struggling to speak'. He isn't to know that Grace is physically able. She remembers how to do tasks; how to brush her teeth and button her clothes. He was just trying to help, like he said. A child couldn't be expected to understand the limits and symptoms of Global Aphasia, that there was indefinite damage done to the Broca and Wernicke's areas of her brain.

 _He's just a child_ , Connie reminds herself. _H_ _e wasn't to know_ _he'd upset Grace_.

They finish getting ready, Hugo tucking the blanket around Grace's legs as Connie watches over him whilst zipping up her coat. She smiles gratefully at Jim when he takes hold of Hugo's hand and tugs him out the way as Connie takes hold of the wheelchair handles. Hugo wants to push Grace, they all know that, but Connie is responsible and protective of her daughter. Ever since they'd left the hospital, after their inspected shift, Jacob was rarely the one behind the wheelchair. Subconsciously, it was the guilt that continued to build up in Connie that resolved in her independence and insistence of one-handedly caring for Grace. There were times when Jacob had to force her to step back. Particularly in the first week or so where she would stay up watching over Grace as she slept, leaving her exhausted come morning, only to start the entire daily routine again. She would run on little to no sleep, only sometimes allowing herself to rest when Jacob came home from work.

Sam had tried to offer his help. He'd visited for a bit, but his loyalties and duties in the States meant he could only stay for a few days at a time. She's finding it easier since they made the very handy investment of a baby monitor. It meant she could sleep when Grace did, with the reassurance of hearing her daughter should anything go wrong.

Jacob isn't entirely sure what Connie thinks is going to happen to Grace whilst she sleeps, particularly now that she's building her strength back up. But he doesn't once challenge her concern. At one stage, when Connie was still in recovery herself, Jacob had feared that she would find the consequences of the crash too much. That she would get swept into a vortex of resentment and anger, or even worse; one void of resilience and care. But her will and renowned determination soon became apparent, when her only focus was Grace. Nothing or no one else mattered, including herself. For the first couple of weeks she would deny them all any source of fun if there was no developmental value in it for Grace. No advent calendar; due to the lack of nutrition. No candles, flames or fires; ensuring Grace's lungs stay clear and there being no flammable hazard were she to fall. No going out between 7pm and 9am for Grace; due to it being 'too cold'. No time off for either of them; Connie making sure Grace was under twenty-four-seven supervision.

She had since become a little more relaxed, allowing the Christmas spirit to settle within her, but it had taken a lot of wearing down on Jacob's part. Each day arousing some snappy rejection from Connie, followed by a petty argument. It had become embedded in their routine.


	2. Chapter 2

It was now past five, and he glanced in agitation at his clock. He knew Connie had planned to take Hugo and Jim with Grace to a restaurant in town, and was expecting him home before then in order to help with Grace. This was a step in itself, she had asked him to be there to help, not just instantly taken it upon herself to bear the sole responsibility for her daughter and the requirements of her condition. Mainly, this was the stairs, as between them they had agreed that they simply could not move the rooms around and would have to carry Grace until they knew for certain whether she would ever be able to manage these herself. At the moment, her physiotherapy sessions were indicating positive developments, however it had been noted by the medical professionals that they were, that the recovery was seemingly slower than would have been expected in the most positive of circumstances. He checked the time again, reluctant to call Connie but also knowing that in this current state delay and disorder, he couldn't simply handover and leave the department.

"Jacob, resus." He turned as soon as he was called, medical instinct taking over, all other thoughts became secondary as soon as the wooden doors swung shut behind him.

...

"I think I should get Grace back, but we'll meet you there at about six. If that's okay with you, Hugo?" Connie smiled at the boy, who nodded and came quickly to bend down to Grace. They had spent about forty minutes in the park, with Connie suggesting to Hugo that he spend some time in the playground with Jim whilst she sat with Grace at the fountains. He was such a lovely boy, but she could see how it upset him that he couldn't interact with Grace so well, and not completely understand why now she seemed different. For example, he had pointed out the Christmas lights that were decorating the lampposts, and the squirrels that would often dart out onto the path, and would each time pause for a response, a response which didn't ever come. He had gradually become more and more quiet, until Connie had insisted to Jim that she would happily wait for them to come back from the play area and meet them before they needed to head back home.

"He needs a break, Jim. It's hard... For him to see her like this. It's..." She paused, her mind wandering back to when Grace had first woken up. "It's not that she doesn't hear us. She gets frustrated, she can't respond how she wants to, so sometimes... She doesn't see the point in trying to." She looked down over the back of the chair to Grace's head, bending to press a kiss to her hair before turning to sit on the marble edge of the fountain.

"Keira and I, we were thinking... Perhaps either you or I, or Jacob, even... We could try and explain to him-"

"We don't know if she's even going to walk unaided again."

It came out before she even realised she was thinking it. But of course she was, it was pretty much all that had been occupying her thoughts since the last physiotherapy session. As she lowered her head, an instinctive attempt to disguise the crack in her shield, Jim touched his fingers gently to her shoulder, not in a way that was too familiar, but a gesture of basic human sympathy.

"Go, he's waiting for you." She cleared her throat, raising her chin and looking to where Hugo stood a few metres away from them, anxiously looking over to the adults.

"We'll see you in a bit." He spoke to her quietly, before following Hugo, who turned back to give a wave to Connie. She raised her hand in reply, the smile quickly falling from her face as she then registered Grace's moving in the wheelchair.

"Sweetheart, what are you-" She braced the handles tightly, before moving around to hold the frame with one hand and place the other on her daughter's knees.

"I want... To go..." Grace struggled to raise herself from the seat, breathing deeply with the effort. Connie pushed her back gently, trying to quieten her as Grace became increasingly agitated.

"Hugo's going to meet us in a bit Gracie, we need to go home and change, wait for Jacob-"

"No..." Grace tried to push forwards again, the wheels of the chair slipping as Connie's grip focused mostly on her daughter's legs.

"Grace, stop, please." There was an edge to her voice, she tried to shut down the panic that immediately crept on her as she struggled to balance the wheelchair and her daughter singlehandedly. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily before releasing the hand that she was using to keep Grace down and taking it to her daughter's cheek, bringing their faces closer together.

"I know." She whispered, and looked at her daughter's face, slightly reddened by the physical exertion and her mouth tightened with anger and frustration. At the gentle words, Grace seemed to cease somewhat in her determination to stand, allowing the tension in her arms to relax enough to allow her to settle back a little onto the seat. Connie inched forwards to steady herself, before bringing her hand to adjust the hat that had slipped from Grace's hair, her fingers lingering there a moment before stroking her cheek, an attempt to soothe her like she used to do as a baby. To settle her back to sleep after a nightmare. "I know, it makes you angry. I know you want to go, sweetheart. I know you want to get up, walk and do it on your own... But you can't, not yet. You're doing... You're doing so well... So, so well..." She swallowed, and quickly lowered her gaze before flicking her hair back over her shoulder and adjusting herself where she was crouched.

All she wanted to do now was go home, and look again through all of the papers that were in the office at home, go over the options, the exercises, the equipment. She could feel it kicking in, the blatant futility of their efforts at normalcy. Grace would barely eat anything at the restaurant, the suction machine would be tucked at the side for the entire time, just in case. She willed herself against it, but all the same, she turned to look over to the play area where Jim pushed a laughing Hugo on the swings.

...

"Con, god I am sorry, it was mental..." The door clicked shut, and Jacob entered the kitchen breathless, his bag swinging haphazardly from his shoulder. He took in the scene before him; the booklets, the papers, the half empty mug of coffee. Connie was sat at the table and Grace on the sofa, watching a film on the television. "Hey, firecracker..." He grinned as Grace turned her head, offering a smile back. He then turned to where Connie sat, not having raised her head on his arrival. He moved to stand behind her, pausing before gently sweeping her hair over her right shoulder, bending to then press a soft kiss to her neck. He quickly cast his eyes over the sheets that covered the table surface, exhaling before placing both hands onto her shoulders. "Are we ready to go?"

"Mm." She murmured, sighing as she placed her pen down and made to push her chair back.

"Con, I said, I'm sorry..."

"It's fine. I just want to get this over with."

"Over with? Connie..."

"Oh, come on Jacob. Why are we doing this? Really?" But he didn't hear anger, nor the condescending tone that usually came with these kind of conversations. Instead he heard a more quiet, internalised frustration, tinged with impending defeat.

"Because Grace wants to-"

"She told you that?"

She was pushing him now. Her arms were folded, quietly challenging him. Challenging him to accept that no matter how hard he tried, his positivity could not have any effect on this whatsoever. That she was right.

"She doesn't need to." He responded quietly, glancing over to where Grace sat, seemingly oblivious to the quiet conversation that was happening behind her. He then moved to go to the front of the sofa, gently encouraging Grace to use him as a support so that he could help her into her chair. "Okay, firecracker? Let's get going, they'll be waiting." He quickly looked up to where Connie still stood watching them, her expression uncharacteristically unreadable, before wheeling Grace from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

They headed to the restaurant, a silence of defeat in the car. They all knew this probably wasn't the best idea. It would end up with Grace struggling to swallow and Connie having to bring out the imposing suction machine, attracting attention which would then lead to an embarrassed and upset Grace…

When they got there, Jim and Hugo were sat at a table and waved across to them as they walked through the door. Jacob smiled over and then glanced at Connie. He knew who was more fazed by this trip out, and it wasn't Grace… This was as much a test of strength for Connie as it was for Grace. Obviously he didn't pressure them into scenarios they weren't comfortable with, but he was glad Connie was facing this. From his knowledge, since the crash, it was like seeing her as a new mother. Getting home from hospital, with a whole new responsibility, and being on call twenty-four hours, each and every day. Many new parents responded to this by days on end of being cooped up at home, too tired and anxious to venture out. Except they had the reason of protecting their newborn from the illnesses and germs they were yet to be vaccinated against. Grace came home with all open wounds healed and a strengthening immune system. Yet Connie had insisted on few trips out and would rarely agree to taking her daughter beyond the front door, even if just to the shops. This evening held risks, he knew that, but no one could help it should they arise. Although that didn't stop Connie from being taut with tension, _anxiety_.

They went over to greet them and Connie maneuvered Grace in her wheelchair to the head of the table, sitting down beside her and giving her a reassuring smile. They passed around the menus, Hugo and Grace both receiving an activity page with theirs, and all started chatting. It was calm, pleasant. They placed their drink orders and then studied the menus, Connie glancing across at Grace who looked over the page on the table in front of her. Connie randomly selected the spaghetti carbonara, a choice that would usually be ignored; it's too creamy, has too many carbs, is messy and a struggle to eat. But her focus was on Grace. She leant on the corner of the table and tilted her head to read Grace's menu. With this being a peak time, the restaurant was busy and growing noisier by the second, so Connie had to raise her voice in order for Grace to hear.

"What do you want, sweetheart? There's pasta, or..." and she trailed off, causing Grace to look up in confusion, wondering if she just couldn't hear her mother or whether something was wrong. Connie was considering the suitability of each meal. Whether is was chewable, soft enough for her to swallow, not too big or too small that she'd choke… It went on. Seeing her absent gaze, yet her seemingly interactive position of leaning nearer to Grace, Jacob touched her elbow, waking her from her pondering. Jim and Hugo were sat discussing the kid's menu, and the volume of the restaurant meant that a reasonably private conversation was possible.

"Con, okay?" He asked. She nodded and swept her eyes over Grace's menu once more.

"Why don't you have some pasta?" Connie encouraged Grace.

"This," Grace said, pointing to the picture of a different dish.

"Sausages?"

"Yes, sausages."

"They might be a bit difficult to eat, darling…"

"What's the matter?" Jacob asked when seeing the unhappy faces, leaning closer so Connie and Grace could hear.

"I… want sausages," Grace responded.

Jacob could tell what Connie's problem was with this, so said, "Sausages it is, okay Firecracker?" and then tugged on Connie's arm for her to sit up again. "She'll be fine with the mash, and fine with the spaghetti hoops. If she can't eat the sausage, then we'll just take off the skin and she can eat the inside. It'll be fine."

Whilst it felt a little like preparing a meal for a weaning baby, it was just precaution. Of course, Grace had a full set of teeth, but she struggled controlling her swallowing reflex, which was largely what lead to the choking; she'd accidently swallow food that hadn't yet been properly chewed. But with soft foods, the choking could generally be avoided.

Once they'd placed their order, Hugo and Grace began the activities on the back of the menu and the adults talked. Connie and Jim would intermittently assist in finding a word in the word search or helping to spot a difference between the two farmyard pictures. It seemed a little young for them both, but it kept them entertained.

At one point, Hugo and Jim went off in search of the toilets.

"He's a nice guy," Jacob commented.

"You say that after every conversation with him," Connie smiled softly.

"I know… This makes a nice treat, eating out on Christmas eve. It's very _festive_ in here." This got no response from her. "The atmosphere is nice, you know?" Again, nothing. "Look, Con, everything will be fine. If it happens, it happens. It can't be helped."

"This could have been completely avoided."

"We're having a nice time, _all_ of us. It was a good idea to come out."

"A moment of madness, more like."

There was no winning with her. They sat in silence for a minute or so before the others returned. Jim and Jacob struck up conversation on some sports event that had happened the day before whilst Connie watched Grace carefully. How was it that no matter how hard she tried, she always messed things up for her and Grace? She'd thought that continuing to drive was the best thing she could do. If they'd stopped, who knows what Steph would have done? She could have left Connie for dead in the gutter and Grace abandoned in the middle of nowhere, for all she knew. She had tried to protect Grace. But she knew that people, including her daughter, believed that it was the result of her stubbornness, not the consequences of keeping her child from harm. Now look. She couldn't have messed up more if she'd tried. And it was her fault.

No.

No, it wasn't. It was Steph's. But Connie still felt such a heavy burden of guilt on her chest. She'd provoked the entire situation, she'd made it worse by not stopping. Maybe if she'd pulled over they'd all be fine, carrying on with the life she had longed for; with Grace and Jacob. They'd be doing well and Grace could have been happy. They all _would_ have been.

"Connie? Con?" She startled and turned her head to look at Jacob, who had his arm resting on the back of her chair as he leaned in, his face just a couple of feet away.

"Hmm?"

"Don't do it."

"What?" She asked, confused.

"Don't sit there going through what ifs and maybes."

"I'm not."

He gave her a pointed look and raised an eyebrow, challenging her lie. "You forget that I know you too well."

She tilted her head now, gazing across at him, "Hmm, well, I can but try." The vulnerable part of her made her anxious, and she quickly glanced over the table to see that Jim and Hugo were both huddled over the word search trying desperately to find a camouflaged word amongst the jumble of letters and drawn on squiggly lines.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded, offering a halfhearted smile. She can't help but wonder whether it would be best if they moved to a quieter area of the restaurant, whether being in the centre of the civilised dining was just putting more pressure on them all. But her dented pride didn't allow her to say anything.

Their food arrived and they began eating, Connie intermittently taking mouthfuls of her own meal as she helped Grace. She could feel the judgement seeping off a woman at the table across from them. Why? What's there to judge? She shot a pointed glare over Hugo's shoulder but the woman just tutted and shook her head. Was Connie not trying hard enough to encourage Grace to use her own knife and fork? Had this woman not noticed the wheelchair? The suction kit?

It was simply the fact that Connie had the indecency to bring her child out in public. That's the reason she settled on in her head. _I'm feeding my slightly drooling daughter in public_. Whilst Connie was stubborn, she felt a flush of anxiety come over her and she leant across to gently wipe the corners of Grace's mouth with her napkin. Once Grace had finished her meal Connie excused herself from the table. The chaos and heat of the restaurant was making her stomach churn. Well, that and the steel gaze of the woman. She went out through the main doors and onto the grass between the car park and building. She needed air. The chill outside was enough to quickly bring down the visible flush on her cheeks, but inside her heart was pounding, she could feel it thrum against her ribcage. She stood with her hands on her hips, her lips pursed as she softly guided her breath in… and out… her eyes focused on the few stars in the sky.

Jacob had noticed her leave, despite the exit being in the direction of the toilets, she hadn't fooled him. He allowed her some time, a few minutes to gather her thoughts and settle any emotional conflicts. The dinner had gone well, better than either of them had imagined, in fact. Grace was fine, only needing a few gasps of breath after dislodging a mouthful she hadn't quite swallowed properly. But even then, he thought that was largely down to their environment, she had undoubtedly felt the tension oozing from Connie, along with the pressures of being in public. But now she was sat quite content with haphazardly colouring the picture on the reverse of her menu. Her hand-eye coordination had drastically improved, although she still struggled with the balance of utensils, whereas colouring pencils had thankfully been the stress-reducing saviour since the crash. She seemed to find colouring unwinding, therapeutic.

He noted that Connie's plate was still half full and that the time that she'd been gone was beginning to breach his comfort zone. No doubt her food was cold now, and he worried about the fact that the temperature outside was frantically dropping, too, yet her jacket was slung on the back of the chair.

"I'm just going to check everything's alright," he informed Jim as he stood up then put on his coat. "She should be fine, but could you just keep an eye on her?" He said, glancing over at Grace.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem," Jim nodded.

Jacob weaved his way through the tables to the exit and stepped outside, a rush of crisp, winter's air brushing over his skin. He looked around, a group of people huddled together in warm coats momentarily blocking his view. He walked a few steps and noticed her sat at a picnic bench in the deserted beer garden.

When he reached her he gave her an empathetic smile. She was sat at the end of one of the benches so that her feet weren't under the table. He came to sit behind her, his back resting on the tabletop and his left arm ever so lightly brushing against her spine.

"It went well, Con, you did well."

"Some people didn't think so."

"What do you mean?"

"That woman, on the table opposite us, kept shooting me disgraced looks."

He sighed, _unbelievable_. "Some people just don't have any dignity."

"Mm…"

"You were fantastic in there. Really, you were. Grace, too. And even if something had gone wrong, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

She didn't reply at first, but then with her voice breaking, "I just can't keep doing this, Jacob."

"Hey," he soothed, holding her elbow. "It's all going to be fine." He leant nearer so that he could look round to see her face. She hated him seeing her cry. And he hated seeing her cry.

"It's constant. People are judging and no matter how… _hard_ I try, it's never enough!"

He put his hand on her shoulder and used it to pull himself closer, pull her back to his chest.

"Look at today. Look at how it went. Can you recall a mealtime where Grace hasn't choked?"

Through a sob she muttered, "Breakfast, last week."

"Exactly. _Once_. And she was eating yoghurt. She had a full, _proper_ , dinner today. She even ate the skin on the sausage! She's getting better. She's improving in every area. You're doing so well, and you're being so strong, Connie."

She swivelled on the bench so that she was side by side with him. He could see the iridescence of her irises reflected in the sheen of tears in her eyes; the freckled cheeks, rosy from the cold air; the plumpness in her lips that she gets when she cries. All the features of his beloved. All enhanced, all more defined. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and nudged her so that she settled her head on his collarbone. They stayed huddled like this for a bit and then he suggested they go back inside so that she could finish her meal and warm up before they got in the car. She agreed, and they returned to the table prepared to wrap up the evening, ready to go home.


	4. Chapter 4

They left the restaurant not long after eight, Connie behind Grace's chair, Jacob hanging behind to talk with Hugo and Jim. They hadn't been able to park particularly near, no doubt owing to both the time and occasion, and as she walked, Connie became distinctly aware of a growing noise, a combination of both music and voices.

Earlier, it would have been easily concealed by the hordes of shoppers, not to mention the fact that they had all been somewhat apprehensive of their impending social situation to focus much on the atmosphere around them. Now however, the area was beautifully lit with canopies of red and gold lights, with several small marquee areas to the sides which presumably housed various refreshment areas. She could see them all; the couples, the groups, some guiding children along in front of them. Hugo saw her stop, and moved forwards from his dad and Jacob to stand beside her, following where she looked.

"Would you like to go?"

"Oh, Hugo…" She very quickly broke away from her reverie, clearing her throat and casting her gaze downwards before continuing. "That's a lovely idea, but… But I don't think, I don't really think we can, not tonight. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"I'll stay with Grace, Mrs Beauchamp. Dad will be there too."

"Hugo, we can't take Grace skating. If you'd like to go with your dad, then I'm sure that would be absolutely fine, but we have to be going." Jacob stepped in, speaking gently so as to not hurt Hugo's feelings but clearly too, for Connie's sake.

"I don't want to skate, Jacob! I want you to skate, with Mrs Beauchamp. Dad and I will stay with Grace, we'll look after her in the warm, in there." Hugo pointed over to the marquees, before looking directly again at Jacob, who could only respond with a growing smile.

It was Christmas Eve, and the idea wasn't wholly ludicrous. He turned to Connie, stretching his hand out a little so that his little finger just touched to hers.

"No... no, no. Grace needs to be at home, Jacob..." She looked down to where he now laced her fingers within his own, before meeting his eyes again. Part of her knew full well that Grace would be okay.

"Half an hour, Connie."

"But she can't-"

"We'll look after her." Jim stood beside Hugo, his hands resting on the boy's shoulders. "There'll be hot chocolate in the marquee, you'll be able to see us from the rink, too." He gestured to the windows that looked out directly onto the rink, where several children gripped onto the wooden rail at the edge whilst grinning happily and waving, presumably at those who watched them from inside.

She swallowed, and felt Jacob squeeze her hand gently. She knew that the chance of anything happening within the confines of half an hour were small.

 _Small. But there was always a possibility, no matter how slight._

"No hot chocolate."

"Connie-" Jacob began, already turning to Jim in what was a somewhat instinctive reaction to ensure that he hadn't been too taken aback by her tone. He'd found himself doing it out of habit now, ever since they had started seeing the wide array specialists and practitioners, with whom Connie had taken pretty much every opportunity to cross examine and argue with.

"Not whilst I'm not there." She spoke firmly and quietly, Jim nodding in understanding.

"Mum…" Grace spoke from her chair, and Connie released her hand from Jacob's to bend down slightly to her side.

"I'll be fine. Go on." She smiled, and Connie smiled too, rubbing her daughter's knee before standing straight once more.

"Jacob?" Grace turned to her left, Jacob quickly coming to copy Connie's former position by the chair.

"Right here, firecracker."

"You'll have to really hold her hand. She's terrible." Grace grinned, and Jacob smirked before raising his head to look at Connie, who merely rolled her eyes. He winked at Grace, before standing up and motioning for Hugo to take Grace.

"We'll see you in half an hour, then. Hugo, Jim… Thank you." Connie aimed her smile at Hugo, watching as he happily took Grace's chair and began to wheel her over to the marquee, Jim following at the side. They watched as they went inside, Jacob watching Connie for any sign of hesitation. It didn't come, but he did feel her once light grip tighten noticeably on his hand.

"It's a big step, Con. It's okay to be apprehensive. Hey…" He tried to lift her chin when she lowered her head, but she shrugged him off, a small ghost of a laugh escaping from her.

"It's just…" She raised her eyes up and bit her lower lip, like she always did when she wanted to stop herself from crying. "I haven't-"

"Left her, like this. Since she came around, I know." He whispered as she nodded, cupping his hands to her cheeks before pressing a kiss to forehead, and then to her lips. "But Hugo and Jim have got her. And you're just metres away, really…"

Again she nodded, before blowing out a breath and righting herself. He dropped his hands slowly from her face to take hold of one of hers' again, coaxing her through the small crowd of people to the rink entrance.

…

Later that evening, he came up to the bedroom with two mugs, pausing just on the landing as he heard quiet voices coming from Grace's room. They'd decided to place Grace's stocking downstairs; they would all come down together in the morning to have breakfast and, unlike years previously, unwrap the presents that had been placed gradually under the tree over the last couple of days. This had been Jacob's idea, one which Grace had of course taken to immediately. In fact, Grace had taken to Jacob's ideas of displaying festivity in general, for she had always longed for the expanse of decoration and atmosphere that he'd eventually convinced Connie was necessary to this time of year. She'd therefore left him to it and, she had to admit, she rather liked his taste and what he'd done to the house in recent weeks.

He heard her now, telling Grace to sleep tight, and smiled before going on into their room, setting down the mugs. She came in not long after, sitting down on the bed to remove her shoes before noticing that he was still stood by the open door.

"Is everything okay?"

"Absolutely. I was going to grab the last of that cake, shall I bring two forks up?"

Another thing that Jacob had insisted upon. A baked, proper Christmas cake.

"You can bring just the one if you want, but it'll be you stripping the sheets when they're full of crumbs."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he retreated back downstairs. Minutes later, he returned to find her sat up by the pillows, her hair loose, wearing an old shirt of his rolled up to her forearms. She had her mug tilted just to her lips, and looked up over it to watch him as he came slowly around to the bed, setting the plate down on the bedside table and removing the mug gently from her hands, before moving over her to kiss her. His hands twisted gently into her hair, and on noticing her beginning to slip down the pillows he gradually pulled away, settling in beside her and pulling her frame to his chest.

"It's all quite different, isn't it…" She murmured softly, nestling into his side, looking up when he made no immediate response.

"Good different?"

"Well…"

He saw her expression tighten a little, and he gently brushed his fingers over her right shoulder, bringing his head closer to her own.

"We were here this time last year, me and you. But Grace was with Sam. Now we're all here, and it should be perfect…"

"But she's getting better Connie, she's getting so much better. And she's happy."

"You make her happy." She made eye contact with him again, and he couldn't quite hide his surprise at what she'd said.

"So do you, Connie. You're her mother, she loves you."

"You've made this time really special for her." She paused, sighing before bringing her head to his side again, shifting her legs under the duvet. "And me. So yes it is, it is a good different." She then brought her face to his to kiss him once more, before sitting up and reaching over him to take the plate from the table, carefully bringing it down onto the duvet cover between their bodies. Taking one of the forks, she began to meticulously prod at a small piece of icing until it skittered across the china. Just as she was about to pick it up and place it in her mouth, his hand beat her to it.

"Hey!"

"Hey, you." He grinned, and picked up the other fork to chisel a larger piece of icing from the marzipan layer, popping it quickly into her mouth to silence her.


	5. Chapter 5

Connie was awake early on Christmas morning. She wasn't sure what it was that was troubling her, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't drift back off. She awoke around five fifteen in the morning, having only been asleep about four hours, and decided after half an hour of staring at the clock that she'd check on Grace. She did it habitually when she got up, even if she was waking early evening ready for a night shift she'd find herself padding into Gracie's room only to remember the time of day it was for her daughter. She quietly nudged the door open from where it was left ajar, a rule that had been implemented to ease Connie's anxious mind, and peered into the room. Still. Undisturbed. Grace's face looked peaceful in the subdued lighting of her room, her chest softly rising and falling beneath the quilt. This was what she used to be like, before the accident; peaceful, and confident. Now, she was constantly fraught throughout the day. And every morning Connie was reminded of the little girl she'd once had but had lost, to a greater extent than she could often bear to consider. Of course she was still Grace, her little Gracie. But so much had changed and Connie couldn't help but think that it would never be the same. And in the silence of each dawn she stood in the doorway, unobserved and alone, replaying the events, steeling herself in the moment, processing the same guilt, and thanking God that Grace was still alive. She repented, both in her head and under her breath, she was struck with a grief so tormentingly strong as she watched the reel of the aftermath run through her mind. There were times when she could feel the gravel at her knees and the grit in her wounds as she desperately crawled across the bottom of that ravine; the sting of the heat in her eyes as the car exploded mere metres from her crumpling form; the agony of losing Grace that overwhelmed all pain from injuries and broken bones; and the semiconscious will for her to die alongside her daughter. That's something she still loathed herself for; her selfishness. If she had got her way then Grace _would_ have died. If no one had come to find them as she'd wished, then they both would have.

This morning was no different; she stood reticently in the threshold. But all of the hypothetical gashes in her mind that she'd managed to sew up over the past few months with self consolation and rationalisation were bleeding into her thoughts once again. It was Christmas. The first proper one she and Grace had had in years. Or it should have been. She struggled to remind herself that Grace had progressed and that any setbacks weren't a reason for Christmas to be cancelled. It would still be special. They were all together, Grace was better now than she had been in months. There _were_ no reasons for Christmas to be cancelled.

She returned to bed in the hopes of warming her toes up and Jacob promptly nestled in beside her, still sleeping. It was only when she pulled the covers over her chest that she felt the material brush against her raw palms. She brought them out from beneath the duvet and opened them to face her. Her palms were red from her nails repeatedly scratching across them whilst in loose fists. It was a comfort thing, or an anxious tick, and she hadn't done it in a while. She remembered doing it subconsciously the first few weeks after the crash, especially, she noticed, when thinking about Grace. It was her body's instinctive reaction to release some of her guilt and pent up fear and worry. She'd not known herself to do it before the crash, no matter how nerve wracking the situation. Thankfully, the marks weren't permanent and usually faded within a few hours, and these were no different.

She and Jacob startled when there was a thud outside their bedroom door, this one, too, was only ever ajar. He sat upright, rubbing his eyes from his sudden awakening as Connie lept from the bed. "Gracie?" She called, reaching for the door. She looked down the corridor in the direction of her daughter's room and saw her silhouette on floor. "Gracie, sweetheart!" She reassured as she rushed toward her. She dropped to her knees and fumbled her hands around her daughter's shoulders, trying to get her bearings in the darkness. "What happened? Are you hurt?" She asked.

"I'm fine, Mum," Grace replied, her speech slightly stilted. "I dropped it." Connie looked through the shadows, confused. Then noticed the light coming through the window from the streetlamps were reflecting off something shiny on an object just behind Grace.

"What is it?" Connie asked, reaching for it only for her arm to be gripped by her daughter's fingers.

"Get Jacob," is all Grace said. "... Sweetie, I can help-"

"Jacob!" Grace called over her. "Gracie? I don't understand. What's wrong? I can help you." Connie's words were becoming more frantic as she desperately searched her daughter's eyes for an answer, her hands reaching for Grace's. She only stilled when Jacob's palms squeezed her shoulders as he stood behind her.

"It's alright, Con. I've got this." "But-" "Go and wait in bed, I'll call you if we need anything." Feeling discarded and helpless she moped back to the room, once again putting her daughter's interests before her own mental security. She wasn't sure what had happened. Why wasn't she good enough? What had she done wrong?

"Sorry Firecracker, I completely forgot this morning," Jacob told Grace once Connie had pushed the bedroom door to.

"I should have waited."

"No no, none of that! I should have got up in time. Right, come on, let's get you up."

"I tried to pick it up," Grace informed him as he supported her under the shoulder and got her to her feet. "But I fell too."

"You hurt?"

She shook her head. "I think the paper ripped."

"Nothing some sellotape can't mend, hmm? You try to fix that, I'll go grab some things from downstairs okay?" He picked up the parcel and took it into the office, watching her as she made her way in after him, then he headed downstairs. When he came back up he went to the office and saw Grace just sticking down the finishing strip of tape before she looked up at him proudly, smiling. "Ready, Firecracker?"

"As I'll ever be," she joked. He chuckled, knowing that it had taken time for her sarcasm and wit to return, then gave a single nod of understanding, which was reciprocated immediately.

He went to their bedroom smiling, but as soon as he touched the door he shook his head slightly, wiping the grin off his face, and entered. He walked in on an anxious Connie running her thumb along her lips as she sat on the edge of the bed. When she saw him she looked at him, dead in the eye, and rubbed her hands together, trying to ease the nervous energy pulsing through her system.

"Is she alright?" She asked, standing. He held a hand up to calm her and sit her back on the edge of the bed.

"She's fine, okay? Nothing to worry about."

"What- why… where-" she was cut off amidst all of her jilted questions when the door was pushed open and Grace entered. "Darling-"

"Mum," she warned lovingly, "I'm fine." Nevertheless Connie went to her and kissed her forehead, cupping her cheeks.

"I'm sorry…" She said, not entirely sure what she was apologising for but knowing that she couldn't handle her daughter not trusting her again. The conversation fell completely silent then when Grace lifted the object from earlier between them, her crutch swinging from her arm. "What's this?" Connie asked.

"Merry Christmas," Grace beamed. Connie's eyes widened, then she turned to Jacob who had momentarily left the room but was now stood behind Grace, a couple of gift bags hanging from his hands.

They sat on the bed, all three of them. Grace had explained that morning's plan to Connie in fits of giggles and Connie wasn't even angry that they'd whipped up such a creative, and frankly adorable, little scheme behind her back, putting her in an anxious frenzy in the process - which Jacob made clear was not involved in the original idea. Grace handed her mother the slightly dented present that had caused all the aggro this morning. Connie's hands dipped with the weight when it was passed to her and she was surprised that Grace had carried it one handed, or tucked beneath her arm, whilst using her crutch. She thanked her then began unwrapping it, curious as to what her daughter had got her. She took the contents from the sparkly paper and looked at it.

"Oh…" she said, feeling it necessary to give a reaction but unsure what exactly it was that she was holding. It was a stack of papers inside a blank, flimsy cover, it almost reminded her of the Yellow Pages. She opened it, surprised to find some scrawled handwriting across an otherwise blank page. _Dear Dr Beauchamp, let me know what you think. Dr ._ No… Surely… She turned to the next page. In print, in the centre, were the words, _The Arrow Through the Heart: Cardiothoracics, Methodologies and the Case of Lara Byrne_. "You've got to be kidding me?" she exclaimed, looking between the two on the bed who were both sat waiting for her reaction. "This isn't meant to be released for another few months!"

"I know people," Grace grinned. Connie looked at her daughter, amazed, then followed her gaze to Jacob who simply shrugged.

"She knows people, who know people." She smiled at him then focused her attention on Grace.

She squeezed Grace in a tight hug, "Ahhh! The best present _ever_! Thank you thank you thank you, Gracie! It's even signed!"

"Suddenly _Doctor_ Beauchamp is back on the table then, is it?" Jacob commented beside her.

" _Mrs_ Beauchamp unless you're willing to spend Christmas on the front porch."

He held his hands up in defence, "Whatever you say, Doc."

Grace smirked, knowing this sort of comment was only something she and Jacob could get away with when it came to her mother. Jacob picked up one of the gift bags and handed it to Connie who took it knowingly.

"This is for you, from me," Connie said placing it in front of Grace. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

Grace removed the present from the bag and tore off the wrapping paper, only to find it hidden amongst a layer of tissue paper too. She took this to mean fragile and proceeded opening with more care. Beneath the paper was a trinket box with mirrored walls, no wider than a CD case, with Grace's name engraved on the outside. The inside was velvet lined and Connie had placed a pair of stud earrings in there that were shaped like little pawprints. Grace looked up, a hopeful smile tilting her lips. "Harriet said we can pick him up next week," Connie said, referring to their recent canine addition to the family, who was waiting for vaccinations before they could take him home.

"I got you a little something too, you should probably open it now," Jacob added, passing her the remaining present. She gently withdrew a box from the gift bag and unwrapped it, then opened the lid. Grace looked up at Jacob as if she couldn't believe he could be so kind. In her hand was a thin chain necklace with a little pendant hanging from the middle, the jewel inside the same colour as the earrings her mother had bought her. Whilst neither of the adults confessed to them not being real gems, they still took great delight in seeing Grace's reaction; full of awe and gratitude.

"Thank you," she told them, breaking her speechlessness, "I love them all!"

"We couldn't have you with a pretty jewellery box and nothing to put inside!" Jacob commented, earning another grateful smile from the young girl.

"How about we go downstairs and have some breakfast, and we can see what's under the tree?" Connie suggested, the enthusiasm in her voice making Grace giddy with excitement. There _were_ no reasons for Christmas to be cancelled, Grace was ecstatic.

"I need the toilet," her daughter said.

"Okay, we'll wait for you, alright sweetheart?" As Grace was leaving Connie collected the remnants of wrapping paper from the bed, pressing it into a ball, until Jacob tugged on her arm and pulled her back against the pillows once he'd heard the bathroom door click shut.

"Merry Christmas, _Mrs_ Beauchamp," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he formed the syllables.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Charge Nurse Masters." They kissed. Jacob's hand came up to comb through her hair and his chest pressed hers further into the mattress.

"Thank you for my present," she muttered, pausing for breath.

"It was your daughter's doing. I was just the messenger." She lulled momentarily, her eyes glazing over and staring straight past him as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. At getting no response he glanced up. "Con?"

"You didn't tell her I wanted to read it?"

"Nope. She was the one that suggested it. She spoke to Charlie, he came over one evening when you were on late. She somehow figured he'd know what to do, I suppose. And he did."

She was amazed. It felt like light had been shone into shadows within her, she felt airy and aglow.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, leaning back on his elbow to study her face.

"Yes. Fine," she nodded. Although, whether it was lack of sleep or hormones, a tear skittered down her cheek.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He chuckled, knowing she wasn't upset yet unable to figure out why she was emotional, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"She did that for me?" She whispered into his ear.

"Of course she did. I told you, she loves you. More than you realise, I think. You should stop knocking yourself down."

"I do, Mum." The two of them pulled apart and turned to the doorway where Grace was stood, Connie swiping the heel of her hand at a tear on her cheekbone. "I know I called you a witch, but I didn't mean it." They both smiled at her comment.

"Trust me, Gracie, I can be a witch."

"Not all the time, though."

Jacob tilted his head from side to side, "Debateable."

This earned him a pillow swung into his chest. Connie got up and pulled Grace's head to her chest, running her thumb over her cheek and kissing the crown of her head.

"Thank you so much, it's so so thoughtful," she said into her daughter's hair.

"You're welcome… Now can we go and have breakfast?" They all laughed and Jacob draped his arm over Connie's shoulders and pulled her nearer to kiss her on the forehead before they all made their way downstairs.


End file.
